


There's Nothing In This World I Wouldn't Do (For You)

by Strawberry_Pennies



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Atheist Character, Ben Hargreeves Deserves Better, Ben Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Ben Hargreeves is Alive, Ben lives, Child Abuse, Childhood Sexual Abuse, F/M, Five Comes Back Sooner, Fix-It of Sorts, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Klaus Hargreeves Needs Help, Number Five | The Boy Has Issues, Number Five | The Boy Needs A Hug, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Canon, Protective Ben Hargreeves, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Trauma, of sorts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-01-27 14:37:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21393820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strawberry_Pennies/pseuds/Strawberry_Pennies
Summary: Five comes back a lot sooner, just five months (in his perspective). For his siblings though, he's only been gone for hours.ORFive works through the trauma of The Apocalypse, tries to stop it and deals with his abusive father.Tags will be added as the story progresses
Relationships: Klaus Hargreeves & Vanya Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Ben Hargreeves
Comments: 26
Kudos: 349





	1. The Return

It’d been five months. For five month he’d been eating cockroaches. For five months he hadn’t seen the sky. For five months he’d been choking on ash. For five months he hadn’t been able to smell anything but death and decay. For five months he’d been working on an equation because it’d been five months since he made the most stupid fucking decision of his goddamn life.

But he figured it out. At least he hoped to God that he’d figured it out. He’d been working non-stop. One upside of the apocalypse was that nobody got mad at you if you wrote on the walls. Well, what was left of the walls.

He wanted to get back. He wanted home. He wanted water that he didn’t have to boil eight times to make drinkable. He wanted a bed to sleep on, one that smelled like mom, like cinnamon and sugar and everything the apocalypse wasn’t. He wanted most of all to have company, he wanted his family. He wanted Vanya, Ben, Diego, Mom, Pogo, Allison, Klaus… he’d even deal with Luther. Hell, he’d spend the rest of eternity with Luther. He’d found himself actually talking to his siblings. Siblings who weren’t there, ghosts… hallucinations. Solitude could really fuck you up.

Five knew talking to himself was a sign that he was losing it. He definitely knew he was losing it. For christ’s sake, he’d been hauling around and talking to a fucking mannequin for the better part of two months. If that didn’t ring crazy then he didn’t know what did. Five knew that with losing his mind his possibility of escape slimmed. That was why this had to work. He didn’t know how much longer he could go on otherwise. He didn’t know if his brain could continue to work as hard as it needed to in an environment like this. He wasn’t getting enough food, or nutrients in order for his overworked brain to work as normal. Nor was he getting enough sleep. Plus, he was pretty sure there was some oxygen deprivation going on with all the fucking ash which most likely didn’t help his cognitive functioning. He really didn’t know what he would do if this didn’t work.

He took a shaky sigh and scanned his surroundings. He was in what used to be The Academy’s library. It was probably the place he felt the safest. Both now and before. After harsh nights of individual training that left his so tired he could barely move, the library was his sanctuary. Books had always been better company than people. And there was always Pogo. Five had always been comfortable around Pogo. More so than Mom. After all, Mom was a robot and while she was trained to help, to make them feel better, she wasn’t  _ real _ . At least not to Five. With Pogo there was always a companionship, he’d never go out of the way to help any of them, never would he dare intervene (and Five had spent many a night cursing the talking monkey for that) but he was always there for the aftermath. 

Five shook his head, clearing his mind of Pogo, of home, of anything other than numbers. He had to be focused, for this to work he couldn’t let emotion enter his mind. It was just calculations, just numbers. He took a deep breath and clenched his fists.  _ Please. _

* * *

It had been three hours since Five’s stunt at breakfast, and the boy had yet to return. Ben didn’t know what his brother had been thinking. Five, more than anybody (except maybe Klaus) knew how Dad was. He’d spoken at breakfast: strike I, addressed father disrespectfully: strike II then stormed out: strike III. As if that wasn’t bad enough, he hadn’t come back. Despite his brother constantly preaching that he was superior (smarter, faster,  _ better _ ) to them, Ben really didn’t think he was that intelligent with this course of actions. The longer he stayed away - waited it out, the worse his punishment would be. And it was going to be pretty bad. He knew Luther was pissed too, so it probably wasn’t just going to be Dad. 

In short, Ben really hoped that Five showed up soon. For his own sake. 

Banishing his concerns to the back of his mind, Ben reminded himself of the task at hand: returning his book to the library. Reginald Hargreeves was as strict about his books as he was everything else and Ben had to return  _ Anton Chekhov: The Biography _ . Preferably he’d also find another book before training resumed (they’d been given a thirty minute break before combat training).

Wandering into the library, he felt suddenly tranquil. Something about the smell of books, comfortable chairs and the possibility to forget about everything going on in order to immerse oneself into a good story was all too comforting. He placed the book back where it belonged (because the last time he’d misplaced one there had been hell to play) and allowed himself to browse the shelves, allowing his fingers to trace the spines of The Academy’s collection in a sort of methodical, soothing way.

One thing Ben valued very highly was calm, and it wasn’t exactly a constant in his life, so once he had it, he liked to cherish it.

He stopped somewhere in the Contemporary British Literature Section when a title caught his eye. He pulled the book out, carefully taking note of which two books it’d been in between and further examined it. He was beginning to turn it over to read the back when a sudden very loud noise diverted his attention. He jumped probably three feet in the air, the book fell to the ground but Ben paid it no attention. Instead he cautiously made his way towards the sound, it sounded like thunder, except coming from inside the house…? Maybe Klaus had snuck in and… no. Klaus would never willingly step foot in a library.

Ben just gulped, cautiously peeking around corners to scan for the source. He took note of a blue light, similar to Five’s when teleporting, it was dominating the room. Dully, Ben noticed his left hand was shaking, he bit his lip and tried to stop the trembling, if dad saw…

Screaming took his attention away from his concerns about Dad. Ben recognized the voice and he felt his heart seize in his chest,  _ Five _ . Throwing caution to the wind, Ben began running towards the sound, grabbing the nearest weapon he could find (a stapler) and arming himself. He turned another corner and fell back at the sight before him.  _ What. The. Hell. _

It was a giant blue… mass? It was light, pulsing, and a boy was at the center of it. At first Ben didn’t recognize him but the screaming gave it away, it was Five. A very dirty Five. More worryingly, a screaming Five. Ben didn’t know what to do, he looked from the stapler to the… sphere and back to the stapler. It wasn’t going to be much help. He hadn’t decided anything else when, as suddenly as it had appeared, the blue light vanished, and with it the sound. Five started falling from the air, maybe six feet. Ben ran forward and got under Five in the knick of time, the other boy landing in his arms, sending Ben sprawling backward onto the floor. He ignored the pain coming from his head after it hit the floor, instead focusing solely on his brother.

He was unconscious and very smelly but also (judging from his pulse and breathing) alive. Ben was shaken, Five was dirty, he looked tired, very, very tired and he was much skinnier than he had been, his cheeks were sunken in, his wrists were thin and there were rings under his eyes. Ben felt his own eyes widening with shock and worry.  _ What the hell just happened? _


	2. "He Did It"

Ben felt lost. Very, very lost. He felt his breath speeding up and  _ really _ , of all times,  _ now  _ is when it was going to happen again. He tried to take a few deep breaths, calm down, push the panic rising in him back down, along with the monsters who have begun to shift in his stomach. He tried to remember the tranquility of the library just a few minutes before  _ the smell of parchment, the dim lighting, the crackling fireplace _ …  _ in,  _ he inhaled,  _ out, _ he exhaled. _ In, out. In, out. In, out. _

He calmed. He looked back down at Five, debating what to do next. He chose to start by getting the boy off of him and onto the floor; carefully Ben pushed his brother away.  _ What the hell? What the hell? What the hell?  _ Ran through his thoughts but he pushed them away with growing frustration. He needed to think clearly, to focus. What would Luther do? 

Step one, assess the situation… right. Well what if there wasn’t enough information to assess anything? Ben groaned in frustration. Luther wasn’t great at this sort of thing anyway, no matter how much he insisted he was one for a reason.

A sudden crashing sound alerted Ben of somebody  _ or something _ else’s presence. He turned quickly, ready to fight whatever was threatening him and his unconscious brother. However, the sight of a very worried looking monkey made him relax.  _ Pogo _ .

The bespeckled ape looked as bewildered as Ben felt. 

There was another crash. The door slammed open again, hitting the wall aggressively as Luther ran in, still apparently not knowing how to manage his strength. Number one’s eyes darted from the mess on the floor to the knocked over bookshelves to Ben, still on his knees and finally to Five, unconscious on the floor. 

“Ben… what… is that Five?” Luther finally spluttered out, not moving from his spot a few feet in front of the entranceway. He seemed frozen.  _ Not a great response to have when you fight crime on a daily basis,  _ Ben thought randomly. 

Luther was slightly shoved to the side by a frantic looking Diego. Unlike his brother, Number Two took in the scene within seconds, a flurry of emotions crossing his face, settling eventually on a firm, purposeful look; he barely stopped before jogging towards Ben and Five. 

Ben gladly shifted over as the knife-thrower bent over, putting two fingers to their brothers’ neck, checking his pulse. 

“How long has he been unconscious?” Diego asked, checking Five for injuries.

“I uh… I don’t know. Um, a few minutes at most.” Ben answered,”Should I get Mom?”

Diego nodded, not glancing up from Five.

“What the hell?” Ben heard from a voice that sounded like Klaus’, he ignored it though, and sprinted out of the library, brushing past a frightened looking Vanya.

* * *

Ben felt his heart beating rapidly, almost painfully from his chest. He cursed the size of the Hargreeves Estate as he turned yet another corner. He’d already checked Mom’s charging station and was on his way to the kitchen. 

He was within two feet of the kitchen door when, from the left, one Reginald Hargreeves came marching towards him. Icy fear developed in Ben’s stomach but he tried to push it down, along with the panic that still hadn’t subsided.

“Number Six, what’s all this ruckus?” Reginald asked, cold in tone and vaguely threatening. 

Ben hesitated, Dad would not respond well to what had happened. He’d probably refuse to give Five medical care as a punishment, it’d happened before. Once Klaus had been stabbed during one of there missions but because of his “slow reaction time” Reginald hadn’t allowed Grace to tend to it until it was infected. Klaus had bandaged and stitched it up to stop the bleeding but he didn’t know how to stop infections and the injury, by day 3, had started to spout puss. 

“Number Six…” Reginald said, impatience creeping into his tone.

Ben melted,”It’s Five. He teleported into the library but he’s hurt, he’s unconscious”. Mentally, Ben berated himself,  _ what’s wrong with you? Why the hell did you tell Dad? _

An interesting expression crossed Reginald’s face, something, almost worry crossed his face. It had to be a trick of the light though, because Reginald Hargreeves actually caring about his children was less likely than pigs flying. He pushed past Ben and started power walking towards the library. Ben bit his lip and followed.

* * *

  
  


Vanya didn’t know what to do. All of the Hargreeves siblings, minus Ben, who was running to get Mom, had slowly migrated to Five, forming a circle around the body. She was between Allison and Klaus, both who looked unsure of themselves. Diego was the only one really doing anything, inspecting Five, opening his eyelids and the like. She wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing.

Looking at Five, she couldn’t help the sharp intake of breath. Everytime she refocused her gaze on him, she felt a new wave of worry. What had happened to her brother? He was horribly thin and with bags under his eyes. His hair was matted with ash, everything was really. It was like he’d rolled in a fireplace. She felt something at the back of her throat and swallowed. 

An echoing boom came from the other side of the library and, panicked, she turned. She saw the door to the library inch forward, having been slammed open. Her face went white when she saw Reginald Hargreeves marching towards them, an unreadable expression on his face. Behind him, Ben looked apologetic and vaguely worried. Vanya felt sorry for him.

The Hargreeves siblings naturally parted as Reginald came marching towards them and the man wasted no attention on them. He bent down in the position Diego had formerly been in (he’d stood up with the rest of them after the door slam). Vanya exchanged a nervous glance with Allison. Her eyes drifted to the state of the library. Somebody was going to get punished for all the mess.

To her surprise however, came a low, throaty sound. She frowned, noticing it came from Reginald. It took her a few seconds to realize he was  _ laughing _ . She shared another look with Allison ( _ what the hell? _ ) before returning her attention to her father. “He did it” the man said, tone slightly in disbelief but mostly jovial,”He actually did it”.

_ Did what?  _


	3. Into The Vault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five's punishment begins. Klaus' anxiety manifests.

“What the fuck?” Klaus muttered under his breath. The Hargreeves, plus Pogo, had made their way from the library to the basement. The only thing in the basement was the mausoleum, and Number Four felt his stomach clench with fear. He pushed it down. Now was not the time to be worrying about himself, now was the time to be worrying about Five. Luther was currently carrying him, trailing behind Dad like a lost puppy  _ loyal to the fucking end. He’d probably kill one of us if he thought it’d make Dad happy.  _ Next to him, was a regretful looking Ben and worried Vanya. 

Klaus wasn’t sure what to think, or do. No explanation had been given after Reginald had given his unhelpful “he did it” comment. Afterwards, he’d simply instructed Luther to pick up his unconscious son, and follow him. Klaus and the other siblings had just been tagging along. With every step, he was growing increasingly worried. He had no idea what Reginald was planning on doing, but had a feeling it couldn’t be good. Five looked like shit, like he’d been run over a few dozen times, and then left in a sewer for a couple of rats to gnaw on. 

Number Four realized they were approaching the mausoleum door, and felt fear creeping up, his breaths were becoming shorter,  _ calm down, calm down, calm down.  _ He could hear the dead on the other side of the wall, all screaming and moaning, begging to be heard. He could hardly hear anything else over the shrieks of the dead.  _ Shut up, shut up, shut up!  _ He took a deep breath, trying to remember the breathing exercises Ben had gone over with him. He tried to refocus his attention back on Reginald and Five. It wasn’t hard, after the teen noticed a pair of handcuffs.  _ What the fuck? _ Reginald had pulled the shackles from his pocket, and why wasn’t Klaus surprised that his dad kept that sort of shit on his person? He motioned Luther to put Five down and looking unsure, the sandy-haired boy did so. The monocled man bent down, and brought Five’s hands behind his back, before clamping the handcuffs around them. It clicked in Klaus’ mind that it was a way to ensure Five couldn’t teleport. Whenever jumping, Five used his hands to move into the jump. It was worrisome, but made sense, as Klaus had figured out by now, that Dad intended to punish his brother. His nausea returned at full force, when suddenly, Reginald opened the mausoleum door. Instinctively, he found himself stepping backwards.

The screams were at 100%, the dead were reaching at him, and Klaus couldn’t focus on Five if he wanted to. His eyes strayed to the face of a young girl, a knife in her eye, screaming about her murder in violent, gory detail. He could only catch some of it over what the rest of the dead were saying but felt his stomach flip as she described the motion her killer had undertaken. Something touched his hand and he flinched violently away. Panicked he turned to the source  _ they can’t touch me… right? _ He exhaled in relief. It was just Vanya, looking innocently up at him (he’d grown a fair deal over the summer so he now towered over her by a good half foot). Her worried brown eyes silently asked  _ are you alright _ ? Klaus swallowed down a lump in his throat and gave her his best smile.  _ I’m okay _ he tried to convey. There were bigger issues right now.

Pointedly trying to block out the dead, all screaming now, Klaus clenched his shaking fists and returned his attention to Reginald. The man was gesturing at Luther to move Five into the mausoleum. Much to Klaus’ surprise, Number One hesitated. With one stern “Number One…” however, the boy did what their father wanted. Klaus couldn’t help his disappointment.

Reginald closed the door.

The room was eerily silent. Nobody spoke. The Hargreaves patriarch turned to face his children, but none would meet his eye. Ben  _ trembled _ under their father’s gaze.

“Let this be a lesson.” Reginald began,  _ always a fucking lesson _ …, “Number Five disobeyed my orders at breakfast this morning. He is punished with a week in vault.”

Klaus felt his stomach turn to ice.  _ A week? _ The vault was complete hell. He’d spent nothing more than a few hours in it, and had nightmares about the horrors of it. All senses were deprived. You were closed off from the world. You could see nothing, and hear nothing. During long stretches in the mausoleum, Klaus became semi-grateful for the screams of the dead. Even the screeching was better than silence. He couldn’t control his hands now, they shook out of control. Somewhere inside him, he vaguely recognized a fire in his stomach, a protective instinct, but it was overridden by intense fear. 

Reginald noticed his hands. They shook more. “Number Four, stop this at once.” he said sternly, “If you are not in control of your body, you are not in control of anything, including your powers.”

He stepped closer. Ben and Vanya, who’d been standing in front of him, gave Reginald a wide berth, and Klaus couldn’t help but feel slightly betrayed. He felt his breaths speeding up. His hands were shaking more and more. 

“Number Four!” Reginald barked.  _ Stand still, stand still, stand still. It’ll be worse if you move. Stop shaking. Stop fucking shaking! _

Klaus felt a stinging pain. He didn’t see the hand coming, his vision had blurred. He saw Reginald pull his hand away from the slap however. Nobody moved. The slap was enough to shake him from his panic attack however, and Klaus clenched his hands into fists and slowed his breathing. Reginald’s eyes bored a hole into him. Nervously, he swallowed and prepared for a second hit. It didn’t come.

Instead, their father turned on his heel and marched down the hallway, leaving the children alone. Klaus closed his eyes and took a moment to steady himself. When he opened them, Vanya was again, at his side. The other four had moved to the one way glass that gave sight to the inside of the mausoleum. Klaus moved towards his siblings, and Vanya quietly followed. He peered into the window and again felt something in his throat. Five lay there, alone, malnourished, dirty and hurt. He’d be there for a week. And there was nothing they could do.


	4. Darkness & The Unknown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five wakes up. Heed the tag changes.

His first sensation was pain. It was everywhere. After that came nausea - then hunger. The constant hunger. The neverending, never-waning hunger. His throat felt dry. When was the last time he’d drunk anything? He opened his eyes warily, conscious of his headache that’d be worsened by the sudden appearance of light. More darkness. He panicked, closed and opened them again. Still, darkness. Suddenly it was hard to breath. Had the rats and bugs gotten to his eyes? Had they gnawed them out when he was sleeping? Had he gone blind? Was he dead? Surely nothing in the afterlife would hurt like this. Unless, of course, he was in hell. 

He was in hell, Five decided. It’d finally happened, he’d either starved, or died of dehydration or sickness. Probably a combination of the three. He thought about his father and his own atheist ideas. He changed his mind. Heaven and hell were figments of people’s minds to make their lives a bit more bearable. There was no afterlife. So then where the hell was he? Pushing his pounding head and aching body aside, Five struggled onto his knees, and tried to put his hands in front of him but found he couldn’t. Something was keeping them behind his back. He frowned and felt whatever mechanism it was. He froze. Everything came back to him. He was home, he’d made it back… it was dark, and he was in handcuffs. There was no mistaking it. Even though he’d been away from home for six months, there was no mistaking the handcuffs. Reginald’s personal pair. He kept them on his person at all times. Five’s nausea came back with vigor, but for a completely different reason. He heaved. 

He still couldn’t see anything, one of his fears. Reginald knew that. Of course he fucking knew that. He’d said it wasn’t just the dark, but Five’s fear of the unknown. That was the reason behind Five’s… personal training. At least it was the reason Reginald gave.  _ “The fear of anything, even and especially the unknown, is unacceptable in this household, Number Five.” _

He began to heave again, except this time nothing came out. Not even bile. There wasn’t anything left to expel. 

_ Reginald walked behind him, and it was all Five could do to stay still. He wanted to lash out, jump away, but his father had made it perfectly clear what would happen if he did that. Last week, he’d called their training exercise of the day stupid and Reginald had slapped Allison, not Five. He hadn’t stopped there, he kicked her feet out from under her and turned to the belt. Nobody moved, not even Allison, until Reginald was done. Not even Luther could hide his horror at the end of it all. Five wasn’t one to get emotional, but after that he’d been overridden with guilt, and hadn’t done anything out of line since.  _

_ Reginald took ahold of Five’s hands and snapped something cold and metallic over them. As the Hargreeves patriarch moved in front of him once more, Five tried to put his hands at his sides, as conditioned to. He panicked when he couldn’t. He realized his father had handcuffed him. Probably to stop him from jumping. Reginald had just recently discovered Five couldn’t teleport without pulling the jump to him with his hands. Wordlessly, his father took him by the arm and led him down the corridor. Five gave no resistance.  _

_ He was quite surprised when he realized that they were heading into the forbidden part of the house. Their father’s wing. Klaus had once ventured into it, had been caught, and sentenced to a week without food (of course that hadn’t been upheld, Ben and Vanya had both snuck him helpings of their meals). He frowned at the direction, his mind trying to make sense of it. Either his father was making a pit stop, or some new form of training was being tested. He hoped the former. He had a fear of the unknown. His gift was all about variables, and his father’s mind wasn’t like that. It wasn’t predictable, a pattern. Nobody knew what Reginald was about to do except for Reginald himself. It was probably a large factor in his power over them, in his ability to instill fear.  _

_ They reached a set of double doors, and Reginald stopped abruptly. Five stumbled at the sudden halt, but quickly adjusted. His father opened the door. Five saw nothing but black. “In,” Reginald demanded. _

_ Five hesitated for a moment and was promptly slapped. Quickly afterward’s, he hurried in. It was dark, though he could still see to an extent. He blinked, hoping his eyes would adjust to the black. Before they could there was an ominous slam as the door shut. All light was cut out. He looked down and couldn’t make out where his feet were. He felt his breaths increasing in speed. He felt sick with fear. _

_ “Number Five,” came Reginald’s sudden voice from Five’s right. He jumped at it, and frantically tried to make out his father’s form. No luck. “Your fear of the unknown is one of your greatest drawbacks. It must be conquered. I’ve come to the conclusion that there is no better way to do this than to introduce you to exposure therapy. In short, if you face your fears, then you no longer have anxiety about it. If you’ve already experienced the worst, you have nothing else to fear.” _

_ Reginald went silent, and Five could no longer control himself. Frantically, he blindly ran in the direction he believed the door was in. He slammed into something flat, a wall or door, he wasn’t sure; and began throwing his body against it with all his power. He did this perhaps three times when rough hands grabbed him from behind. He shrieked as he was forced onto the floor. A hand intertwined itself in his hair and used it to pound his head against the floor once, twice, three times. Even more disorientated than before, sharp pain came from his nose and temple. He felt a sob rise up in him and tried to swallow it, causing a low whine to come out. Something wet and warm trickled down the side of his temple and nose. There was a ringing in his ears and he couldn’t see. He couldn’t see and he couldn’t move his arms. The rest of his body was held captive by the larger, stronger body on top of his.  _

_ Desperately he thought of the coordinates to his room, and used all his will to think of it. His room was safe. He wanted to be safe. Safe, safe, safe. Away from this darkness and pain and fear. It wasn’t working. He tried to think of other coordinates, but found his mind fleeing to memories of Pogo’s warm embrace, mother’s empty but comforting smile, Vanya’s soothing words, Ben’s just  _ being  _ there. The equations themselves faded away, and with them, all hope. Even with the numbers, he knew he wouldn’t be able to jump unless the handcuffs were removed. _

_ A hand roughly pulled down his pants and Five’s mind went blank. What was going on? His head hurt and everything was fuzzy. He couldn’t focus on what was going on as much as he tried. Come on, come on, come on- sudden pain. Sudden white-hot, burning, intense, overwhelming agony _ .  _ Something had just entered, no warning, where it never should go and it  _ ** _hurt_ ** _ . It hurt so much. Distantly he heard screaming, but didn’t realize until much later that it was coming from him. Something was inside of him, going in and out and shattering him from his innards out. It hurt so much, and he knew he was sobbing. He couldn’t stop it. He still couldn’t see, but he could feel. He wished so much that he couldn’t feel. That he couldn’t feel the pain, so much pain, inside, outside, in his mind, and in his body.  _

_ “Anything. Please. Anything. Just stop.” he heard himself saying,”Please stop! I’m not scared anymore, I’m not scared!” _

_ It was true. He wasn’t scared, he was terrified. _

_ Later, when he thought it couldn’t get worse, Reginald removed what he’d shoved inside him. Five thought he was done. That it couldn’t get worse - but it did. It got so much worse. Something so much bigger and so much worse went in. He couldn’t handle it and passed out. He awoke sometime later, and the pain was still there, still going. It was still going in and out, rocking him violently, his head slamming against the floor with every thrust. He still couldn’t see, but he could hear. He could hear the panting and the moaning coming from above him. He could hear the quiet “Good boy”’s and knew distantly that this hadn’t been just about training, or even punishment. He later realized that no matter what, it would’ve happened. Even if he did nothing wrong, never messed up, never expressed fear - it would’ve happened. _

_ But lying there in the aftermath, after Reginald had left, and Grace was tending to his injuries; none of this occurred to him. Not even the pain registered. Just quiet shock, and quiet submission. _

The memory over, Five managed to lift himself to his knees and leaned against the wall. He closed his eyes, feeling a bit better knowing that in closing them, he had a choice in the darkness. He focused on breathing. No tears escaped. He had no more to cry.


End file.
